


Scales [discontinued]

by Enfield



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Cults, Diary/Journal, Gen, Living A Lie, Modern Girl in Thedas, Near Death Experiences, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Stream of Consciousness, Teenage Main Character, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:18:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7375954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enfield/pseuds/Enfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a teenage girl is spat into Thedas and attempts to survive the events of the Blight. Story told through journal entries. </p><p>Inspired by LonelyAgain's Diary of a Dislocated Knife-ear. [oh god i need to rewrite this?? lets see how long that takes]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Entry One

**Author's Note:**

> Ophelia begins her Journal and recalls her first few days in Haven.

_Someday of Some Month, Maybe the Dragon Age?_

Alrighty, here we go. 

It’s been awhile since I’ve had the chance to write on actual paper. Hold on, I should probably scratch that out because this is parchment, literally some parchment sewn between two shoddy pieces of leather. Paper hasn’t been made here yet. You can hear the trees cheer in happiness practically as I try not to poke the quill in too deep. 

I think I’ll try to be careful writing in this journal because I don’t want to give these people any reason to think I’m not a true believer of Andraste. Writing with a quill by weak candlelight in the back of a dragon’s filthy pen is better than having my head lopped off by giant silver swords. I don’t believe they wouldn’t do it either. I’ve seen the bloodstains on the cave walls, thank you very much. But something tells me the Disciples of Andraste don’t really appreciate free writing...or free thought. I can’t think of any cult that does. 

I can’t really say how long I’ve been here in this old temple. I’m a little scared to figure out how many days I’ve been in here and how long I’ve been forced to eat these crazy ideals they insist on teaching me. I’ve been strong enough to resist mentally so far, so no worries.

The first few days here, I was completely isolated inside of some sort of dungeon. The floor was hard and cobbled and my only company was the old, disgusting bloodstains on the floor. I can’t even imagine what fresh blood must smell like but I was a little glad that it was all dried up. There was no visible windows for me to look out of and the armored guards that came by weren’t really all that friendly or talkative. Maybe they weren’t used to outsiders or allowed to talk to them?

I spent a lot of time sleeping then because there wasn’t really much to do but stare at the wall and lay on the floor and be cold. I will admit I had a few panic attacks also. There was periods of calm and quiet, my emotions in check. Then I slowly remember that no one was coming to save me from this mess. It was like someone pouring ice cold water on top of my head. I was in an entirely new world by some divine accident. I was somewhere in a cage, in a place where people carried and used dangerous weapons. And me, a teenage girl not even finished with high school, had zero defense at all.

I couldn’t stop myself from breaking into hysterical tears and gasps for air because at any moment, one of the armored guards walking in here could be carrying my death sentence.

And one day, someone did walk in with that death sentence. 

It was an older man with lengthy graying hair that was pulled back and a mass of facial hair. Two guards lingered on the side of him and their shining armor almost blinded my eyes. 

In that moment, I think I understood what a cornered animal felt. The old robed man eyed me up like a disgusting scourge who shouldn’t have dared to even come into his eyesight. I felt a slight familiarity for this strange character but it was quickly drowned out by more terror and more tears. I could only guess how gross and disgusting my face looked from all my panic attacks.

Some of the questions he’d asked me had been things like “how had I come upon Haven?” and “if I had come here looking for Her?”. To which my answers had been “I’m not really sure” and “I don’t know who that is”. He obviously hadn’t liked my answers but his next words had escalated from questions to commands and then he commanded the guards to force me to speak the truth.

It’s funny how movies and tv always makes torture look so easy. The protagonist just brushes it off and spits blood at the assailants with some cool but cheesy one liner coming out of their drooling mouth. Well, just to let you know, television is a fucking liar. Having someone kick their steel covered foot straight into your naked stomach isn’t easy. It hurts a fucking lot. It causes bruises and maybe even bleeding sometimes. It makes you feel like everything inside you is on fire and you need to cough it up right away but nothing comes up but saliva, spit and despair.

I wish I could say I remembered everything that happened, honestly. It’s all just a messy blur of memories now that I’m actually taking the time to write this all down. But I do remember lots of pain and screaming. I remember my throat being screamed raw and crying so heavily that I just wanted them to carve my eyes out of my head. I don’t think I can ever forget that.

I remember trying to pray to every God or Goddess I could even think of. I’d like to think that I got lucky or one of them might have listened to my pitiful pleas because one of the guards yelled something that helped me finish the mental puzzle of where and how I was.

You see, he said something about Andraste. 

Andraste, the fiction deity of the video game series of Dragon Age. The game I played on the weekends when I had finished up my work for the day. He just spoke of a person who wasn't supposed to be real. This robed man-no, this robed mage attempting to get information out of me that I didn’t even have- was supposed to be Eirik, the father of the Chantry of Cultist era Haven. None of these was supposed to be real and the disbelief could have outweighed the pain I was in. It didn’t, by the way.

And the next part to write of this is honestly the most unbelievable part of this all. I don’t know why or how I thought of it but I figured if they want information I should tell them something. Anything in order to survive. So, I lied. I pulled a Varric(oh gosh, he’s real too then?) and told the biggest lie I could think of.

So I told them that the reborn Andraste had came to me in a dream. I told them I was running away from a horde of darkspawn that had overcame my home village and the high dragon Andraste soared down on fearsome wings and blazing fires and slayed them all before showing me the way to a high mountain where I would be safe from everything. The sobbing and gross noises I couldn't stop making should have made my lie sound even more believable.

Maybe the more unbelievable part is the fact that they completely devoured this lie. The guards dropped me-that bit hurt really bad-and looked to Eirik for guidance. They looked confused and shocked, something told me these two weren't the brightest tools in the shed. It was a good thing they had this whole guard thing going for them. Eirik looked just as confused as they did though he was admirably better at not showing it. I would have laughed if I wasn’t feeling like the insides were self destructing.

Lucky for me, he only questioned me two more times that day.

“You say that you were shown the way to Haven by Her?”

“I would never lie about my dear lady, Andraste,” I lied. I totally lied.

“You only speak of the truth?” Eirik questioned. I couldn’t tell if he was truly buying this overcooked lie or not but at least he wasn’t yelling and I wasn’t having my chest being kicked in anymore. A small victory at the moment. 

To be honest, those Gods must have heard my prayers because he left pretty quickly after that with his stupid guards trailing right behind him. If anyone had came back, I didn’t really have the chance to notice because I blacked out once I was sure I was actually alone. When I woke up, I learned I actually wasn't alone the whole time I was sleeping and someone had in fact come back in.

It’s something that can wait for my next journal entry, I’ve been missing from the others for far too long and I don’t really want to figure out what kind of punishment I’ll get for not being in bed when I’m supposed to be. 

Good night, journal. I’ll write in you again soon. I need to leave some kind of record just in case I make it back home.


	2. Entry Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ophelia finishes telling her first few days in Haven, we meet a Warrior and a Mage and witness magic for the first time.

_2nd of Bloomingtide, 9:31. Haven._

Well, just like yesterday night, I find myself hiding in the back of dragon’s pens so I can write without interruptions of any sort. It’s not entirely dangerous to be in here for so long, something I hadn’t really expected. The dragonlings don’t seem to mind the extra company and are willing to let you stay if you bribe them with snacks or meat of some sort. At first, they were a little curious as to why I was lingering around for so long and there was a lot of nudging and nippings as an attempt to let them see the journal and what I was doing. A little shoving and sternness goes a long way with these guys, thankfully.

I’ve also finally figured out the proper time to mark for the heading of my journal. I had to ask around during work which didn’t yield any results but got me a ton of weird responses. Apparently, people up here don’t really have the exact dates to the time, just a faint knowing of the month and most of the calendar tracking is left up to the Revered Father and his Chantry underlings. Eirik isn’t a very good friend of mine at the moment so obviously had to find someone else less suspicious and untrusting to ask.

Luckily, the Shopkeeper in the village shop had a calendar of some kind. It took a little convincing but I managed to get the month and date. The Shopkeeper, Amol, is a nervous and stiff person and I could tell he just wanted me to leave as soon as possible. Though it could have just been that I was an outsider and he wasn’t used to non-hostile contact with one. Just like everyone else in Haven, actually. 

Now that I have a date, I’ve been formulating a timeline of when the Warden is supposed to come here and massacre everyone. Just a precaution so I know when to run for the hills so I’m not a victim of murder just yet. 

I say ‘just yet’ because I haven’t the faintest idea on how combat works in this world and it’s only a matter of time before I look at a tree wrong and it smacks me into oblivion. 

Since we’re all caught up on today’s current events, I guess I’ll continue with how I got into this whole mess. So I’ll pick up with right after I blacked out. 

The day starts with my eventual awakening. It was not a gentle procedure at all. I was forced awake by the harsh clanging of metal on metal which echoed throughout the whole dungeon and jolted me awake. It fucking terrified me and my first thought was ‘I’m about to die again’.

I jumped up quickly to see what was going on and regretted it not even three seconds later. That one movement made my whole body burn and ache. It was like I could simultaneously feel all the bruises from yesterday flare up and even breathing was too much of a struggle to handle. I almost wanted to cry from the pain and I would have if person outside my cage yelled at me.

“Don’t pass out again. I’ve been waiting forever for you to wake up,” They sternly spoke, knocking their gauntlets against the metal bars again. So, that’s what woke me up. 

It took me awhile to actually move my head over to look at them. It was mostly because I had a pounding headache and my head felt like it was going to give in and roll off my shoulders at any moment. 

The one who started my rude awakening was a tall and imposing woman with hard eyes and bright, silver armor which I would later learn was called ‘heavy armor’ and warriors wore it like it was air for a good majority of their day. But the most fearsome thing about this woman was the hulking greatsword that was latched on her back. I would hate to be on the receiving end of that so figured I should behave for now. 

“I am going to be taking you to get healed and settled in,” She started to fumble with the cell door and unlocked it, ”Then you’ll be given a short brief of what you’re going to be doing in Haven and that’s the end of us ever speaking, understand?.” Her words were strong and sharp and caught me off guard. I didn’t expect her to be so rude to me, at least not this fast. It was like she didn’t even want to be bothered with me. What is wrong with these Haven people?

Tired of waiting for me to actually get what she was saying, she swept her arm underneath mine and lifted me up roughly and started to drag me out of the cell before I could even find the strength to stand on my own legs.

“Wait a second! Hold on! What’s going on?” I wanted to fidget a little but her armor was starting to dig into my skin and it wasn’t helping my growing pain problem one little bit.

“Are you daft? I’m taking you to get settled in,” She practically spat at me as she continued to drag me along. If she noticed my shuffling and attempts to walk on my own aching legs, she didn’t care. Her attitude was actually starting to irritate me a little. 

I stopped myself from asking anymore questions seeing as she didn’t seem to want to speak to me anymore at the moment. That was fine, less room for her to get even more upset with me then. 

We walked-I struggled really-onward in silence and left the dungeon behind. I was relieved to be out and had no intentions on ever returning. We trailed up more stairs and the stone started to get lighter and cleaner. There was more torches up here and the floor looked a little more clean and worn from walking. I started to get a sneaking suspicion as to where we were. It turned out to be correct as the air and floor started to get colder. I started to wish I actually had some shoes for my feet now.

We were in the Ruined Temple at the top of the mountain. The same temple that the Sacred Urn of Ashes lied deeper in. This was the temple that was taken by the Chantry and turned into a holy site before it was destroyed in the beginning of Inquisition. A small side of me hoped that I would actually get to live long enough to see the infamous Breach. The other side of me hoped that I would actually find a chance to get home before any of that happened. 

With my mood boosted and damped, I decided to take this chance to speak to the stony warrior once again.

“I know you don’t want us to talk or anything but can I know your name, at least?” I asked and even dared to look at her. She shot me a quick glance and sighed.

“I am Mauve,” She said. I smiled at her. The first step to a conversation was paved. I complimented her on her name and she grunted in response. Deciding to take this as a chance to move even further, I asked her where her name originated from. I couldn’t really remember anyone named after colors in the games and I wondered if it was a culture thing.

“My mother was an Orlesian, she picked the name,” Mauve growled. Something tells me I hit a nerve and maybe it was time to be quiet now. It was obvious I couldn’t unlock that part of her tragic backstory yet. But a part of me couldn’t help but wonder what a Ferelden girl was doing with an Orlesian name. I could have sworn there was still bitter feelings left over from the Ferelden Rebellion?

The rest of the trip was spent in a tense and icy silence with Mauve keeping her eyes straightforward and me glimpsing at the beautiful architecture of the crumbling temple. 

The game doesn’t really do it enough justice. It’s one of those things you just have to see in person. The ceilings were high and wide with faded but breathtaking murals painted or carved within the stone walls. Most of them depicted scenes of Andraste's life and other great things she may or may not have done. There was also many destroyed and crumbling pillars and piles of icy snow. There was so much snow that giant icicles were forming on the ground and the ceiling. 

I still try not to walk under the stalactites because they aren’t the most stable and being crushed by ice structures doesn’t seem like the most fun way to go.

Mauve brought me to a thinly decorated room and helped sit me on the bed which I thanked her for. It was quiet between us still and it only grew more awkward as the wait became longer and longer. She was serious about keeping the talking between us to a minimum. I decided to go ahead and break the silence. 

“Why are we waiting here?” My voice strained. My throat was still a little raw from yesterday and it was starting to hurt from speaking so much. 

“We’re waiting for one of our healers, Justin-and why don't you ever stop asking questions?” She hissed at me before taking station by the door. It was obvious we were done talking for now even though I still had more questions to ask her. 

It wasn’t long before the door had opened and a young man dressed in robes with a staff latched on his back walked in. What is it with mages and robes? Maybe they could escape from more templars if they dressed more like normal people. 

Justin was a blond with clear features and a soft smile, he was obviously one of the few at peace with themselves while being a member of a dragon cult. He smiled warmly at me and asked me how I was feeling today. I told him I felt like my body had been trampled by a horde of darkspawn. Surprisingly, Justin laughed loudly and Mauve wrinkled her nose like my joke smelled bad.

With Mauve’s help, they removed the scraps of clothes off of my body. They must have been destroyed during my journey to Thedas through...whatever it was that I had came through. I had been thinking on this for a while and the only conclusions I came up with is that I must have fallen into Thedas through the Fade somehow or...someone had dragged me over. Just thinking about it was giving me a huge headache and I decided to think about this later on when everything made a lot more sense. 

I looked down at my bruised and banged body and quickly turned away. Those two guards had turned my body into a distorted palette of blacks, blues and reds and just looking made me want to heave up whatever I had left in my stomach, which wasn’t much.

Justin tsked and mumbled to himself, “The twins really went a step too far this time. Lucky for you, I’m positive I can fix this up.”

“Fix it up? You’re a mage?” I spoke and I couldn’t really stop myself from getting excited. I was in the presence of an actual magic using mage! I really never liked the whole stigma and horrible treatment mages received throughout the series and I promised myself I’d try to be a little extra nice to this one. 

He wiggled his fingers and I felt a strong _pull_ of an intangible force around me. Justin’s hands lit up a bright blue and white mist swirled down from his hands. The air around him seemed to flicker and waver. I don't know how describe what I felt or how I felt it, but I knew Justin had just tapped into the Fade. My skin chilled and I couldn’t stop myself from shivering a little. It was a little unsettling how something so strong had just been dormant around me this whole time and I hadn’t even known. I don’t think he saw me shiver, thankfully. 

“Stop showing off! Do what you need to and leave!” Mauve ordered before stomping out of the room and slamming the door. 

Justin extinguished his magic-I also felt the Fade return back to it’s "shape" like he wasn’t pulling at it anymore- and sighed before he started to see what area of my wounded body required his attention first.

“It doesn’t bother you?” I asked him quietly after a few seconds of silence.

“...what? You mean, Mauve’s prickly attitude?” He chuckled as he gently grasped my arm. 

“Yeah, does everyone have to put up with her with being so...edgy all the time?”

He laughed again and I got the distinction he was laughing at me. I huffed and told him I was asking him a serious question. It took him awhile to stop laughing but he eventually managed to whisper to me that this was Mauve’s way of keeping people away from her. 

“She’s not really accepted around Haven. Her mother was an outsider and from an Orlasian background so naturally she wasn’t very popular when she joined us,” He explained to me.

“But you don’t seem to mind her?”

“No, outsiders don’t bother me. So many of them want to keep outsiders away but we would have died out a long time ago we had. Then who would be left to protect Her legacy?” 

He had a point. Inbreeding would have killed the Disciples off ages ago but obviously new people kept floating into the gene pool. Wanderers, explorers, lost mountain people and who knows what else had brought people to Haven and those outsiders either settled or were murdered probably.

“In some ways,” He began to tap into the Fade as he spoke up again, “You’re both are similar. She just doesn’t want to get ridiculed more for being around you but having someone to relate to would be good for her, I think. Try to make friends with her, okay?”

I was mostly distracted by the sensation of feeling the Fade for the second time that day-it's so tingly to be near!-but I managed to tell him a quick okay. He smiled at me in return. This kid has some really bright smiles to be in a isolated dragon cult. 

“Thanks. Now, brace yourself.” He warned and of course, my first instinct was to ask what he meant but I stopped myself before I could because I felt him nudge the Fade into me. It was heavy and warm and made my skin crawl. The room was suddenly brighter and I could see the magic he was using, it was like an incredibly bright light. My arm felt incredibly warm and itched as skin and muscles and blood were entirely rearranged and coerced into reforming back the way they were before I was injured. It was entirely mystifying to watch and behold up close. The games didn’t even come close to showing how being healing worked.

The games also didn’t tell you that after the healing stopped, it hurt. It was like something had sucker punched me while my body raced to catch up to what just happened. I will admit that I yelled out in surprise and pain.

Justin laughed once more, “The first time is always the worse.”

“How can you tell?” I sniffed as I tried to force myself not to cry in front of him. At least the pain was fading away now. 

“You looked so surprised and wide eyed like you’ve never been healed before,” He said as he started to work his magic on my other arm.

True to what he said, the next to few times didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would and my whole body felt almost brand new as he finished up healing the last of my wounds. Mauve walked in with new clothes-thank goodness, I was getting tired of being cold and in my underwear-and what even looked like food as Justin finished up his healing completely. 

“All better! I’ll let Mauve take over from here but I’ll be seeing you around-oh, I don’t even know your name!” Justin said as he approached the door.

I contemplated telling them my first name for a few seconds but decided “Ophelia” sounded a little too "noble" like and I didn’t need any Ferelden/Cult people against me than I had already right now. So I decided to give them my middle name. “Fortune.” Simple and a rustic enough to fit in. Justin accepted it rather well and said his final goodbyes.

Mauve helped dress me and she kept quiet the whole time, unsurprisingly. These new clothes were a simple long sleeved cream dress, some fluffy tights, under garments, socks and hide boots with complicated buckles. The inside of the dress was lined with a soft fur which was probably to keep the cold and snow out. The clothes all fit me well and were comfortable besides the fact I was chubbier than most people in Ferelden. Well, I was bigger than most underfed people everywhere in Thedas. I’d probably blend right in with the upper class in Orlais or Hightown.

She let me help myself to the food she had brought me which was some dried up fruits and jerky of an animal that I wasn't brave enough to ask about. It wasn’t exactly the full meal I had been hoping for but it was better than nothing, which was what I had been eating these past few days. Mauve took this time to clear her throat and speak up. Clever, she decided to speak when I was eating so I couldn't say anything.

“This room will be yours for the time being. You’ll be in here for the rest of today and tomorrow morning, someone will be taking you down to the fields in Haven to do some farming work then you’ll be taken to see if you have some kind of fighting skill in the afternoon,” she finished with a pause to make sure I understood. She didn’t seem like the type who liked to repeat her words.

“Fighting skill?” 

“Yes, if you do, we can train you and let you into the inner sanctuary with the wyrmlings and dragonlings and you would be bunking with the other trainees,” She said as she started to head towards the door. I started to imagine the different caverns we get to see in the game like the egg room and the one with the mass of meat and dead animals and honestly I couldn't stop myself from feeling a little excited. This was a cult of nutjobs but they were also nutjobs who managed to tame some of the most destructive forces in Thedas and walked among them everyday as if they weren’t the cause of some of the worst massacres ever. And they were willing to share these secrets with me.

I probably had a dumb, excited look on my face because Mauve took this time to leave me alone before I could badger her with even more questions. I finished up my scraps of food and finally decided to lay down and go to sleep for night. So much had happened over the last few hours and getting some sleep sounded heavenly at the moment. So that’s what I did.

And now that I have how I was let into one of the most exclusive cults in Thedas written down on parchment, I’m going to have to call it a night. I think I’ll give some of the dragons head scratches before I head out of here. 

Good night, journal. I’m just another day closer to getting back home hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took all night again and is a whopping 3k words?? i didn't think i had it in me and i wanted to give up like three times in but friends gave me strength to continue <3 once again i tried to beta read everything but stuff probably gave me the slip.
> 
> so fortune is basically all caught up with how she got there and now we move towards the future and see how she's settled in and how she got to become one of dragon caretakers and yes she drank dragon blood 
> 
> also it's my lil belief that mages are just big ol catalysts, magic is just them using the fade to speed things up and make things go. the stuff to make ice and fire and primal magic is already around, they just use the fade to make it work.
> 
> well im gonna go off to bed now. please comment and kudos, it keeps me strong like some kind of parasitic demon yo


	3. Entry Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fortune writes about her new surrogate "family" and remembers something she wishes she didn't.
> 
> Warning: anxiety attack and small torture scene. it's not that long.

_4th of Bloomingtide, 9:31. Haven._

It’s been awhile since I’ve had the time to write something down in my journal. These last two weeks have been busy and stressful and I’ve honestly been too tired to sneak in here and jot down a few words. It wouldn’t look very good to pass out in the dragon pens, I bet. 

Since I came into Thedas last month, it’s been nothing but hard work and little fun. 

Just like Mauve had told me, I was eventually booted out of my room by some older cultists and escorted down to Haven. The rooming in the temple and inner sanctuary were only reserved for inner cultist people apparently. The cultists that had lacked the aptitude in combat or couldn’t handle dragon rearing remained in Haven. They spent so much time working you could almost mistake them for normal people, honestly. Farming food and producing clothing and other basic necessities for the people of Haven and the Temple. 

Living in Haven is surprisingly simple and easy, actually. I wouldn’t mind it if they didn’t, you know, kill people. 

I ended up bunking with a quiet couple-who gave me dirty looks on the side when they thought I wasn’t looking-and their daughter who carried around a dirty ragdoll most of the time. The father was an older man with a scruffy beard and yellowed eyes that followed you around the room quietly. His wife was _younger_ than him with a pale complexion and glossy long golden hair. I think she was supposed to be a few months pregnant from the noticeable bulge within her dress. 

They were both awkward around me and obviously felt uncomfortable even being in the same room. Their daughter, Clara, didn’t mind me at least and actually was nice to me on occasion. 

One time after dinner, I saw her playing with her toys, you know, as kids do. She invited me over to play with her and graciously accepted her offer with smile. I joined in on her game with one of her other dolls which was a poorly knitted knight of some kind and a wooden painted mabari. 

I thought up a quick adventure for them unlikely trio-the knight had been held captive by a horrible demon and the mabari had found the maiden to embark on a journey to save him-and we spent a good while playing this out. I have a big number of cousins within my family, younger and older, so I like to think I’m particularly good at keeping children occupied and having fun. Playing with Clara reminded me a little of being home.

The little blonde child was laughing at a humorous antic of the mabari companion when I noticed her ragdoll was getting even more filthy as we played.

“Clara, your Maiden is dirty! Why haven’t you cleaned her?” I tutted at her.

A flush grew on her freckled face and she played with her hands in embarrassment and told me her mother had been too busy to clean her since she first got it. That was pretty understandable, the people of Haven spent a good portion of their time working and praying to Her. Deciding to be nice, I offered to take it down to the lake and scrub it down for her.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really! Hand her over!”

Clara quickly shot up and handed me the doll in a rush of eagerness. I laughed at her excitement and turned the doll over in my hands to examine it. It had a mess of red stringy hair and a tan dress. It’s button eyes and knitted smile flashed up at me. It was covered in a mass of dirt and a large stain that reached from her dress to her face. Clara shook my shoulder and told me to hurry up so we could keep playing before we had to go in for the night. I chuckled and shushed her.

I had no idea what that stain was and I was wondering if I would need to use soap to scrub it out or not. I picked at the dark brown blotch that resided under it’s right eye and brought the doll up to my face to sniff it.

Dirt, grass, her mother’s overburdening perfume and-oh.

I recognized that smell. It was like a handful of dull pennies had been thrown in my face. Blood. 

_This was blood._

_I was thrown back to my time in captivity. The sharp stench of blood that had dried on the floor. I could feel the heavy metal boots kicking me again and the shouting that ringed in my ear. The floor was rocky and cold and everything hurt so much. Why hadn't anyone come to save me? Why was no one coming to stop them? I just wanted it all to STOP._

Terror began to pool in my stomach and I could feel myself shaking. The food I had just ate threatened to come back up and I couldn't breathe. My eyes started to prick and ache and I felt the familiar urge to cry again. But I couldn’t cry in front of Clara, she would know something is wrong and tell someone and my cover would be blown and I would killed they would kill me oh god

“Are you going to clean it?” Clara inquired in a innocent tone. I couldn’t stop myself from envying her for a quick second.

I had to stop myself from throwing the ragdoll back to her and rushed into the house with the excuse of suddenly not feeling too well and a quick promise of cleaning it up another day.

I think I’m done writing for tonight. I’m so ready to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you really think you could forget that?


End file.
